Before I Forget You
by rottenpaperclipwrites
Summary: A sequel I wrote to my other fic - Cold Blood - just to give the story closure. Takes place a few years afterwards. Mike is on the run and Harvey still hasn't given up. What's going to happen? Read this to see.
1. Chapter 1

What was it like? What was it like to lose Harvey?

It was like saying nothing as everyone who you have ever loved slowly faded away. It was like standing and watching your entire life burn to the ground. It was like jumping into the deep end of the ocean and forgetting how to swim.

It was an endless pain. It was a numbing grey. It was static in his head. It was screaming in his ears.

It was everything and it was nothing.

Harvey. His smile. His laugh. His voice. His eyes. His mind. Him.

The last time that they had been near. The last time that Mike had seen him -- it had been the night that Mike had walked away.

Curled up on his side he had main, wrapped up tight in their blankets. He had looked so peaceful.

The sight of him had nearly urged Mike to stay -- an urge that he had forcibly ignored.

He loved him, and that was the only he was leaving. If he could he would have stayed holding on to Harvey forever.

A sad smile flickered across his face, disappearing even as the pain of the memory lingered in his eyes. Already so many others were beginning to fade but he willed himself to hold onto that one.

You would think that when the love of a person's life -- the man they gave up everything for; the man they'd give up Earth, Heaven and Eternity for -- walked out on them in the depths of the night with barely a word of explanation they would be beyond sanity with rage. You'd be wrong.

Don't give up on us.

I'll always find you.

A single message like this posted every week to his old accounts. Sent with no guarantee that they would ever be seen. Often, Mike wished that Harvey had given up. That he hadn't tried so hard. That he could have made it easier for himself to move on.

He closed down the website, hesitating before shutting down then laptop. A sigh escaped from him, the screensaver of him and Harvey filling him with pain. Everyday of his life he would miss him, but the aching was slowly growing more and more bearable.

The hands on the clock ticked away into the morning. Soon the sun would cast its spell upon the sky, creating a kaleidoscope of colours in the heavens.

Awakening the world in all its splendour.

He settled into the chair at the window. Spain in the morning was beautiful. Breathtakingly so.

The fresh air from the open window filled his lungs to the brim. He inhaled deeply, holding his breath for a long time before letting it out. He shut his eyes, trying to concentrate. He shut his eyes, trying to concentrate on all the little sounds. Everything was so much purer.

A beep from his laptop worked in bringing him out of his reverie.

"Two damaged people, trying to heal each other is love."

\--R.H Sin

He checked Harvey's location immediately, his entire being stilling as the words appeared on screen -- Barcelona, Spain.

It seemed that he would have to move on again, he shook his head sadly. He had just begun to fall in love with the city.


	2. Chapter 2

Walking away should have been the hardest part. It should have been, but it wasn't. Not even close.

Sitting and staying when he knew that he would be gone soon. Being there when he was preparing himself to leave - that was harder.

But the hardest part? The worst part? No doubt about it - was the letter. Having to write a final goodbye to the person who had saved you - that feeling was incomparable to any other. Uncontrollably as he wrote his hand shook. Words upon words threatened to spill from his heart and on to the page. Countless things that needed to be said - like, how the sun rose and set for him with Harvey; how he wasn't sure he would be able to make it alone; how he loved him till the end of everything; how he would give up the world for him - countless things that had to be hidden.

It broke him, tore him absolutely to shreds, having to write those short sentences. Burned him to his very core, but still it had to be done.

Trevor. A small room. Cold metal against Mike's skin.

No movement. No escape.

Trevor. Heavy footsteps falling behind as they ran.

An endless white room darkening to black.

Trevor. A wall - less darkness. Completely alone.

A glimpse of freedom. A glimpse of hope.

Trevor. Standing right before him. Smile on his face.

Lifeless. Loveless.

Trevor. Cold arms embracing him. Breath against his neck.

Teeth cutting into him. Drawing blood.

Trevor. Trevor. Trevor.

Mike flailed beneath the blankets, his arms flying wildly in all directions. Deeper and deeper he tangled himself within them. A cry escaped his lips as he shot up in bed. He sat, ramrod straight, allowing his racing heart to calm down. A cold sweat covered his entire body and he was far too awake to fall asleep again. The red illuminated numbers on the bedside alarm clock caught his eye. Three in the morning again.

Dreams of Trevor haunted his night even as the painful memories began to fade in his waking life. Breaking his sleep in the early parts of the morning. Leaving his heart running wild and his mind too alert to be able to fall asleep again.

The dreams, however, were not always the same.

Sometimes a deadly game of cat and mouse ensued. The fleeting thoughts of freedom and hope swelling in his chest quickening his pace. Trevor close behind him. His icy fingers grasping at him. The touch of Trevor's body against any part of his jolting him awake.

Other times they were so vivid - so closely resembled those horrid few months - he wanted to tear his hair out. Would have gladly torn his heart out.

He settled now in the comfort of a well worn chair. The place in front of the television set which had become one of the most familiar to him over the past few months. He lay a thick green notebook in his lap, opening to the last page he had marked. Clear: dazzling white and lined - ready to be written on.

He held his pen steadily, moving it with a sturdy hand. Sentence after sentence appeared on each line, filling up space of both sides of the page.

He wrote without editing himself, letting the words come from somewhere deep within him. Somehow beyond his brain and his mind.

The pen slipped from his fingers, landing on the floor with a light tap. He placed the bookmark neatly before he closed the notebook.

He leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes and conjuring up images of Harvey. It took ages for an image of him to appear in Mike's mind.

A throbbing headache began behind Mike's eyes, tears built up and threatened to spill over. He had known that this day would come - the day that he would begin to forget Harvey - but he had still hoped that it wouldn't happen.

But it was here, sooner than he had expected. His memories of Harvey were beginning to fade - and along with losing them, he knew he would lose a part of himself.

Shreds of doubt were growing in his mind. Questions about whether or not he should have left began forming.

Mike had kept the image of Harvey in his mind. He wanted strongly to reach up with his index finger and be able to trace its outline.

He had stayed away for so long that the reasons between why he had first left and why he wasn't returning were beginning to blur.

Was he still justified in his actions knowing what he now knew? Was he just hiding? Running away from the truest love he had ever known?

Maybe, it was no longer about protecting Harvey - Harvey who had never given up on him, who had searched for him tirelessly, who had saved him from Trevor. Harvey who had kept away the nightmares and who had never stopped searching for him.

He closed his eyes tight and quietly counted to ten. Trying hard to get his mind ordered. Random thoughts ran through his mind, colliding into each other.

Anything was possible - tomorrow was unforseen.

He opened up the laptop that had been on the table in front of him. Going immediately to the site Harvey posted most on. For the first time he logged on instead of reading as a visitor. He typed in Harvey's name, clicking on his profile as he came up under his friends list. He hesitated, but just barely, the arrow hovering over the reply button. He's fingers flew over the keys and a message began to take form.


End file.
